“I was sorry, too. Ty said you were bushed after working all day.”
“Um, yeah, sure was.” That was as good an excuse as any and she appreciated Ty making one for her.
“Maybe another time. He’s an excellent dancer. It’s like being on Dancing with the Stars.” She glanced behind her as more customers came in. “You may get too busy, but if you could come over and sit for a minute, that would be great.”
“I will if I can.” She’d love a woman-to-woman chat and she figured Rosie felt the same now that they had Ty Slater in common.
Rosie thanked Meryl for the coffee and carried it to a vacant table next to the window. In no time, Rosie’s friend Harriet came through the door. Once Harriet had her coffee she joined Rosie and they began an animated conversation.
So much for a private discussion about Ty. Whitney should have realized that was unlikely. Rosie might come in alone most of the time, but she never stayed that way for long. She seemed to know everyone in town, and inevitably at least one friend would show up. More often it would be two or three.
But a little while later, Harriet’s husband stopped in and they both left. Whitney put Meryl in charge of the counter and walked over to sit across from Rosie. “How was your Thanksgiving?”
“Wonderful. I’ll bet you worked most of the day, didn’t you?”
“I did, but no worries. I’m not martyring myself to the cause. I’ll close on Christmas. I just promoted Meryl to assistant manager, so now I have someone to cover for me when I’m gone.”
“Good call. She’s a hard worker.”
“And ambitious and intelligent. I lucked out with her. Anyway, she’s taking Christmas Eve Day and the twenty-sixth for me. I’ll drive down to Cheyenne to see my folks then.”
Rosie nodded in approval. “Excellent. I’m sure they miss you.”
“They do, and I miss them, but opening this new location is a terrific opportunity for me.”
“You’re doing a fine job, too. Incidentally, I’m glad you and Ty rediscovered each other.”
“He’s a great guy.”
“I agree.”
Whitney smiled. “I’m sure you do.”
“I guess you’re aware of his background because it was printed on the calendar. I’m still not sure how I feel about that. It helps the cause, but I think it bothers him for strangers to know those details. He hates the idea of being pitied. All my boys do.”
“Personally, I admire him for getting on with his life the way he has. I’m sure you and Herb were a part of that healing process.”
“We were, of course, but he had a good foundation. His parents were nice people. We knew them slightly, and my boys went to school with Ty, so naturally Herb and I wanted to help.”
“He’s lucky you were there for him.”
“He knows that. At first he was mad at the world, but he’s mellowed out, thank goodness. That doesn’t mean I don’t worry about him.” She reached over and patted Whitney’s arm. “I’m thrilled you’re seeing each other. He told me you have plans to get together today and later this evening, so I assume you’re enjoying each other’s company.”
“We are.” Her face grew warm.
Rosie grinned. “Now that’s cute as all get-out. He turned pink, too, when I mentioned it. Anyway, that’s really what I came in to say, that I’m happy for both of you. I didn’t get a chance to tell you last night.”
“Well, thank you.” She took a steadying breath. “But I’m not sure how much we’ll be seeing each other over the long haul, considering we live so far apart. A five-hour drive, especially in the winter, isn’t all that much fun.”
“I know the situation’s not ideal, but these things have a way of working out if they’re supposed to.” Rosie’s gaze shifted to a spot over Whitney’s shoulder. “Hey, Janine! Saw you come in a minute ago. Recovered from all your dancing last night?”
Whitney turned as one of Rosie’s oldest friends walked over to the table, coffee in hand. Whitney gave up her chair despite Janine’s protest.
Meryl was due for her break soon, and Whitney wanted her to take it so she’d be back before one. Ty had shown up right on time last night and probably would again today. Although she’d called his plan silly, she could hardly wait to see him.
Ever since he’d given her that heated gaze before walking out her door, she’d been riding an adrenaline high. She’d finished trimming the tree while sipping wine from the bottle. There’d been at least a third of it left and they’d washed the goblets.
Then she’d put up her only other Christmas decoration, a ball of fake mistletoe. She’d chosen to hang it in the archway leading into her kitchen, but it didn’t really matter where she put it. Kissing Ty was a foregone conclusion whether she had mistletoe or not.
She’d taken a hot bath in the vain hope that it would relax her. But who could be expected to fall asleep in a bed that probably would be occupied by a gorgeous cowboy in less than twenty-four hours? Finally she’d managed to doze off only to wake up superearly.
At least she’d had plenty of time to put fresh sheets on the bed and clean towels in the bathroom. The sheets were plain white. For a moment she’d wished for something less boring, but then she’d remembered how he’d looked at her.
He wouldn’t notice the color of the sheets. All he’d require would be her naked body stretched out on a relatively soft horizontal surface. And all she’d require would be permission to caress his naked body as they made sweet love all night long.
Being at work had presented another challenge. She had trouble not staring at the calendar. Yes, she could see his sculpted chest even with her eyes closed, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want to study it some more.
That wasn’t a good idea, though. Every time she glanced at Ty’s picture, a shiver of anticipation ran through her. Sooner or later Meryl was liable to notice. Precisely at one, Ty strode into Rangeland Roasters. Today he wore typical wrangler clothes—jeans faded and softened with time and scuffed boots that had seen plenty of action in the barn and the corral. He had on the same shearling jacket and brown Stetson, but underneath he had on a blue chambray work shirt. The longer he was in Sheridan, the less he resembled an attorney.
He met her gaze and she felt the connection from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes. She gave a short nod to let him know she’d be right with him. Then she ducked into her small office to grab her parka and her phone.
“It’s all yours, Meryl,” she said to her dark-haired assistant as she pushed her arms into the sleeves of her coat. “Call me if you have any problems.”
“I won’t.” Meryl’s quiet confidence had earned her the promotion. She was unflappable.
Whitney required that trait in order to feel comfortable putting someone else in charge of the shop. “Well, let me know if you do. I can be here in no time.”
“Go have fun. You deserve it.”
Whitney lowered her voice. “I don’t know how much fun a girl can have in an hour.”
“With a guy who looks like him? Plenty.”
As Whitney walked toward Ty, she had to agree. His welcoming smile was a party all by itself. She gazed up at him. “Hi, you.”
“Hi, yourself.” Warmth flashed in his gray eyes.
“Rosie came in this morning.”
He nodded. “I’m not surprised. I knew she drove in for some secret Christmas shopping. She’s tickled about us.”
“I could tell.”
“I explained to her that dating isn’t going to be a simple thing with you here and me down in Cheyenne, but she seems to think we can work around it.”
She gazed at him and realized the distance between Sheridan and Cheyenne was shrinking in her mind. “We might.”
“We just might. Time will tell. And speaking of time, we’d better get moving. The clock’s ticking.” With a hand against the small of her back, he guided her out the front door of Rangeland Roasters. Then he laced his fingers through hers and started off at a brisk pace tow
ard the diner.
“Is this what they call speed dating?”
He slowed immediately. “Sorry. Guess I wanted to maximize the time I spend sitting next to you.”
“At the counter, right?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He squeezed her hand. “Especially after you gave me a vivid picture of what might happen in a booth. Besides, we’ll get seated quicker and served faster. Do you know what you want?”
That gave her the giggles, and her breath frosted in the cold air. No more snow had fallen since Wednesday night, but the temperature still hovered around thirty degrees.
“I can see where your mind is.” Laughter rippled in his voice.
“Do you blame me? You’ve strongly suggested that tonight we’ll—”
“Maybe we shouldn’t talk about that.”
“Nobody’s paying attention.”
“Nobody except yours truly, and talking about it makes me want to do it, which has predictable anatomical consequences.”
“Predictable anatomical consequences? Is that a legal term?”
“If it’s not, it should be.” He pushed open the door and ushered her into the diner. “And that subject’s officially off-limits.”
“You’re no fun.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I just pick the appropriate time and place. This isn’t it.” He paused inside the door. “Good. The counter has spots available.”
The hostess arrived and seated them immediately as he’d predicted. The stools had backs, which gave them a place for their coats. Ty barely had time to help Whitney off with hers before two water glasses appeared along with napkins and silverware.
He gestured toward the glasses. “See? Counters rock.” He took off his jacket and hung it on the back of his stool.
“Unless you want to fool around.”
“Stop it.” He bumped his knee against hers.
She bumped back. “I can’t help it if you kissed me last night and gave me ideas.”
He blew out a breath and stared straight ahead. “I am deliberately changing the subject. Is your tree decorated?”
“Yes.” This time she rubbed her knee against his instead of bumping it. “And I hung up some mistletoe.”
“Of course you did.” He tugged on the brim of his hat. Then he gave her a sideways glance, amusement glinting in his eyes. “Did you really consider that necessary?”
“The knee rub or the mistletoe?”
“Both.”
“No.”
“I should hope not. The knee rub is overkill and any guy who’s met you wouldn’t need mistletoe to inspire him.”
“That is a really fancy compliment, Ty. I’m not sure I’ve ever had such a fancy compliment.” Or had one delivered by such a gorgeous hunk of manhood.
“See what I’m discovering about you with this lunch date? You have a smart mouth.”
She met his gaze and lowered her voice. “Oh, Ty, you have no idea how smart my mouth can be.” And she ran her tongue over her upper lip.
“Dear God.” He glanced away and his jaw tightened. “What have I done?”
“Not only is my mouth smart, but it’s educated.” She bumped his knee again. “Do you understand what I’m saying, cowboy?”
He turned to her. “Do you realize you’re torturing the man who’s paying for your lunch?”
“Let me remind you that this lunch plan was your idea and not mine. Last night I was perfectly willing to—”
“Enough.” His large hand closed over her thigh and squeezed. “We’re going to talk about neutral topics while we eat the burgers and fries which are coming our way.”
His warm hand on her thigh was doing crazy things to her pulse rate, but she pretended total nonchalance. “Would you care to make a list of acceptable subjects?”
“You know what I’m saying.” He glanced up as plates were put in front of them. “Be nice.”
“I am nice. Very nice. As you’ll quite likely find out later.”
“Whitney, do you have a one-track mind?” He gazed into her eyes.
She could get lost in those gray depths. “Today I do. Don’t you?”
“God help me, yes. But I thought that getting together like this would diffuse things a little.”
“Wrong.”
“So I see. Eat your lunch.” He turned away, picked up his burger in both hands, and took a generous bite.
It shouldn’t have been a sexy move, but with Ty every move was sexy, even chewing. His jaw was clean-shaven, unlike the scruff he’d worn for the calendar. “Who decided you should have a beard for the calendar picture?”
“The photographer.” He glanced pointedly at her untouched meal and lifted his eyebrows.
“Okay, okay.” She focused on her plate and began eating her burger.
He went back to his food, too, but after swallowing another bite, he spoke. “Just FYI, don’t expect a tan. That was taken in the summer. I’d spent some weekends at the ranch helping Rosie and Herb spruce up the place.”
“Nobody has a natural tan in Wyoming in the winter. I was just curious about the beard because I’ve only seen you clean-shaven.”
“Well, there’s no way I’ll have that kind of scruff by tonight, either.” He sounded mildly irritated.
Puzzled by his tone, she put down her burger and looked at him. “I’m not expecting you to show up with a beard.”
“That’s good.” Instead of meeting her gaze, he pretended great interest in his pile of French fries before finally choosing one.
“Is something bothering you?”
“I just hope to hell this isn’t about the calendar.” He looked at her. “Because that’s not who I am.”
“What do you mean by this?”
“What’s going on between you and me.”
“Oh.” Now she felt a little guilty for all the times she’d stared at the calendar and fantasized about him.
“You see, Dominique—she’s the photographer—wanted a certain look, especially because I’d be on display first and the picture needed to be a grabber. She suggested the scruff and setting up our session at dawn. Then she kept shooting until she got the expression she wanted, as if I’d just rolled out of bed and left behind a very satisfied woman.”
Whitney hadn’t consciously thought about it, but now that he’d described the intent behind the shot, she had to agree the subtle implication was there. “She nailed it.”
“Apparently. I’ve been propositioned by women who expect me to be... I don’t know. Out of the ordinary. I’m not.”
Her heart ached for him. She’d never considered that such a sexy image would create an unrealistic expectation, or that it would bother him that he might not live up to it. “I was attracted to you long before I saw that calendar.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She laid a hand on his arm. His very warm, solid arm. Squiggles of excitement danced in her stomach. “Knowing you’re a lawyer who’s also a cowboy on the side is kind of fun, but I would have asked you to help with my tree even if I’d never seen that calendar.”
He studied her for a moment, and then he let out a slow breath. “I’m sorry.” He covered her hand with his. “I probably overreacted. It’s been a long four months.”
“I can tell. But it’s almost over.”
“Thank God.”
“And I know for a fact you created interest in the program.”
“That’s what I keep telling myself, and that does help, but it’s somebody else’s turn.” He glanced at a clock hanging on the wall and squeezed her hand. “Better eat up. Time’s flying.”
“Right.” She dived into her meal and vowed not to mention the calendar ever again.
But she thought Ty’s view of himself as ordinary was way off the mark. He’d survived losing both parents and from all indications was doing well in a demanding profession. She didn’t see anything ordinary about him.
Besides, that cocky grin the photographer had coaxed out of him had come from somewhere. It wouldn’t hurt
for him to let that devilish streak out once in a while. She wouldn’t mind being around when he did.
6
ON THE DRIVE back to the ranch, Ty saw Rosie’s truck up ahead. She must have finished with her Christmas shopping. If he passed her, he could beat her to the rural mailbox so she wouldn’t have to stop for the mail. He couldn’t save her the trouble every day, but he could do her a favor this afternoon.
She didn’t drive fast, so catching up and passing wasn’t tough. He beeped the horn on his way around and she honked back. Turning in at the ranch road, he glanced at the new sign Damon and Phil had made last summer.
THUNDER MOUNTAIN RANCH was carved into a slab of wood suspended between two sturdy posts about five feet high. Hanging beneath it was a smaller painted sign announcing Home of Thunder Mountain Academy, and under that hung an evergreen wreath decorated with pinecones and a big red waterproof bow. Both signs and the wreath looked as if someone had decided to add some whipped cream to the top edges.
Parking carefully along the side of the snow-packed dirt road, Ty climbed out and took a picture with his phone. It was Thunder Mountain Academy’s first Christmas, and although no students would arrive until January, he thought this holiday deserved to be commemorated.
Rosie pulled up beside him and rolled down the window. “Were you planning to get the mail or just stand around taking pictures?”
He glanced over his shoulder. “Take pictures and get the mail.”
“Then I’ll wait here. We’ve been expecting word from the state as to whether students can use a semester at the academy for high school credit.”
Shoving his phone in his coat pocket, he walked the short distance to the main road and the mailbox. Sure enough, one of the envelopes had the state seal on it.
His boots crunched on the packed snow as he walked back to Rosie’s truck. “This might be it.” He handed her the envelope.
“Looks like it!” She ripped it open and unfolded the sheets of paper. “Woo-hoo! We’re approved!”
“Hey, that’s great!” He was happy for her and everyone connected with the project, but he suspected what was coming next and it could seriously mess with his plans.
“We need to celebrate!” Then she glanced at him. “Hey, I didn’t mean you. You have a date with Whitney tonight.”
A Cowboy Under the Mistletoe Page 5